Incomplete
by Lady Phenylina
Summary: A little anthology of Akatsukishipping Oneshots  CyrusxDawn  Mostly Gameverse based
1. Feeling

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**Welcome to my little anthology of akatsukishipping oneshots! I'll update when ever I get the impulse to write silly little things lol. Because there seriously isn't enough of this pairing.**

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**This first one will be connected with at least two others I promise **

**This one is gameverse based - based after the events of the main story . . . somehow cyrus and dawn found themselves in love with each other . . . somehow . . . well bloody hell don't ask me how, it's just _somehow_ because this popped up in my brain out of nowhere XD so enjoy please **

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***//Part I - Feelin****g\\***

The room was lit in dancing pale lights of a stout odorless candle. In the fickle light he sat holding an ancient relic of a book. Its pages yellowed and stained with age and its words a vestigial of the ignorance of the past. However, in their ignorance of the knowledge of the works of the world they portrayed a warped fragment of truth - he smiled in realization. His lips curled upward as a gentle lift of the decaying page revealed to him a yellowed stained face of a creature dark and sinister. Under the primitive design of the creature the epithet inscribed was "The dark riseth and raiseth nightmares of the most intense kind." The first three words being the largest on the page and scrawled in ornate script, his eyes trailed to them straight away.

He chuckled quietly. "Ah . . ." he mused as his eyes danced across the script, "The dark riseth. . . It must be you . . . the pitch black pokémon . . . Darkrai, incarnation of nightmares." His whisper faded into the dark and he yawned. He reached over toward the clock on the corner of the desk; its gleaming neon numbers reading 12:08.

The embodiment of nightmares he mused, should be lurking in the dark. The candle flickered in that instant and the evanescent fear of his childhood stirred, laced within his thoughts. He started to shudder, but stifled the repulsive act and turned back to the archaic tome. He read on, the yellowed page further stating, "In the time of great darkness, sorrow wells and the forlorn, the desolate and the lone one lie in wait at the time when the innocent potters in the moonless night. . ." A great frustrated hiss of air escaped him and he fell, straight backed into the reclining chair.

"A bunch of empty headed cock and bull angst . . ." He growled.

"You should stop reading so late - you'll strain your eyes." Cyrus turned his gaze to the girl who had been sleeping. She propped herself up on her pale limbs and gazed coolly back at the man through her dark blue eyes. He smiled at the girl who rested her chin between the vee of her hands.

"What are you reading in any case?" She asked, suddenly attentive. He turned back to the page slowly, a smile lurking across his face.

"Myths. Fairy tales of pokémon said to lurk in shadows." He turned back to her, her eyes still wide and alert. He sighed. "It's very boring manuscript actually, littered with old english and all and all one big pile of superstitious idiocy." His attempt to divert her interest failed. She sat up and beamed a grin a Cheshire delcatty would be proud of.

"So basically it's all right up your alley, huh? Isn't that right mister scholar?" She playfully kicked the under side of his seat and the swivel chair turned his body towards her.

"Exactly." He said sternly. "Now sleep." He whispered. He eyed her paper thin night gown as it shivered in the light. Her face began to heat up as his eyes trailed her lanky fluid figure.

"If you're cold," He whispered, "You should cover yourself up in the comforter."

"I-I'm not cold." She shivered under his steely gaze. With one fluid and weary movement the man stood up. With his eyes not leaving hers for more than a moment, he pulled off his shirt. Her eyes widened above her heated cheeks.

"I suppose I'll lie down with you." She beamed and scooted over under the thick comforter they shared. "It was getting rather dull to tell the truth -"

"What was boring? Your diabolical schemes? Dull? Never!" She feigned shock with her hand pulled to her face in a dramatic pose. For a split-second his heart dropped and his mind whirled. The question came to mind - indeed, why had he been reading such banal drivel? He shook it off as she teased, prodding the wounded lion further.

"Never, ever, ever! They will never be dull as I will always be there to thwart the scholarly, stoic despot to be!" A snarl ripped across his face. As of late, he had given up such plans for obvious reasons. For one thing she was right - he would never succeed at such idiotic ideas with her standing in his way. And for another thing, why in hell would he want to? She had opened up to him a world of beauty - emotions and all. They were indeed useful he found . . . However, the once "stoic despot to be" was finding it harder and harder to handle the unwelcome emotions he had managed to stifle for so long.

In one swift movement he shot across the bed and pounced upon her. Before she could let out a shriek of shock, he clamped his hand over her mouth and found himself grinding into her and pinning her legs painfully together with his knees. He felt her squirm uncomfortably as the thick leathery material of his pants crushed against her soft thighs. Anger welled blindly in his mind. Underneath his calloused hands, she whimpered, fear flickering through her just as the candle light flickered against the aging pages of his fairy tales. Suddenly he fully realized what he had done and yanked his hand away in disbelief. Fear was plastered plainly across her face. What had he done?

"I-I'm Sorry," he grunted and lifted himself off her carefully. As he moved to sit on the opposite side of the bed, she stayed exactly where he left her, her mind swirling and her cheeks on fire. Her eyes didn't move from their spot on the ceiling until a deafening crack brought her to attention.

Her head snapped towards his form in the flickering light. The source of the crack, she discerned, had been when his solid fist connected with the spot on the wall where a rather large new hole now lie. She heard him silently string together curses. She barely managed to stifle a chuckle as she now fully realized that this was not the time to provoke this man.

"Cyrus," She breathed softly. She lifted her hand to his arm and squeezed lightly. When he made no attempt to turn to her, she pulled herself to him. The moment her hand went to grasp his, he shirked it away.

"Dawn, it's probably for the best if you leave me be." His voice was laden with self loathing. But she persisted.

"Come on now, don't-" She continued softly, touching his shoulders.

"NO!" He turned abruptly, fear now written on _his_ face. His eyes were wild and angry and it dawned upon her that these emotions were fighting for control at the very moment. Pain filled her as he turned back slowly.

"Dawn, sleep, now." He whispered hoarsely. As he got up to leave, a weight dragged him back to the bed. With a start he looked over his shoulder to see her there draped across his back.

"Stop it." She murmured into his back. "Stop torturing yourself Cyrus - you can open up to me. It's okay . . ." Her soft voice sank deep into his mind. He stayed silent, but she continued. "The more you insist on keeping yourself hidden to me, the harder it will be to open up. Cyrus, please realize this - no matter what, I'll always love you . . . So don't hide your pain . . ." She begged.

He turned to her the pain visible in his tired eyes. The two sat together in the dancing light and gazed into the others eyes intently. Suddenly, the man before her melted into her arms. His arms reached out around her. He heard the sharp intake of her breath as he did so. He felt on the brink of collapse as he lay cradled into her arms. Slowly they sank back into the bed, with his head resting on her chest. He felt the gentle curve of her breast beneath his ear, her heart beating slowly, rhythmically beneath. He closed his eyes to hear the beat, the pulse of her life. His head fell and rose with her breath and for a brief moment, he felt completely at peace.

"So what are you feeling now?" The girl murmured. He could her her voice resonate as well through her chest.

"I feel at peace . . . I shouldn't be though . . . considering what I've done . . . I don't deserve something so precious . . ." Her cheeks turned hot.

"I'm deplorable, heinous, abominable . . . I'm simply monstrous." He growled.

"T-that's not true Cyrus." Her soft voice only strengthened his self hatred.

"I'm simply monstrous if I think I can just lie here in complete serenity after what I've done - Dawn!" He exclaimed, pulling himself up to meet her face to face. He found much to his chagrin, that her face was bright red and smiling.

"Why on earth are you smiling?" He asked, the dumbfounded expression on his face provoking her smile to extend.

"That's one of the feelings you wanted to erase right, the self hatred? With your "plan"?"" She asked, the smile never disappearing from her face.

"Y-yes." He stated, vexed further. She already knew his hatred of such feelings and knew the awkwardness they brought him. So what was she getting at? Unless . . .

The most tranquil expression that adorned her face left him torn, his mind in turmoil.

"And what about other feelings . . . what about this feeling . . ." She said softly. She took his face in her hands and pulled him closer. On his lips lay her breath, warm and sweet. She parted her lips and nipped at the mans nose. He stayed in place, his heart beat accelerating as she bent her head lower in a more awkward position to reach his lips. As soon as her heavy breath patted against his own lips, he spoke.

"It's something that I might not mind feeling again." The man murmured. The girl in his arms chuckled.

"I thought so. . . " She trailed off and he felt himself becoming more and more exasperated and jaded as the night flickered on. He turned to the clock. From where he was he couldn't read it's beaming letters. The candle on the desk was more than half melted, around it, a flat ring of wax. He turned back and was greeted by as strong a slap as the girl could muster. He tried to pretend the girls slap hadn't shook him as it did and came back to her smile with a dumbfounded look nonetheless.

"I realize that I may have deserved that, but you could have warned me." She smirked.

"How about that feeling, did you like that one?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind, so long as it was you." He said simply. She chuckled. "Care to elaborate as to what exactly you are getting at?" From deep within him, the urbane scholar clambered for control.

"What you're feeling . . . the emotions anger, confusion, lust . . ." The last word lingered on her lips like the last drop of wine.

"Love." He corrected her softly.

"Love." She agreed with a smile. "Then back to confusion again and maybe even anger correct?" She questioned him. His brows furrowed in annoyance.

"What in the hell are you trying to get at - that I'm an emotional wreck of a man who flares up at the harmless teasing of his lover?" The forced debonair composure was lost.

"No. Not in the least. what I'm getting at is that these feelings, these emotions are things you can't control. No matter how hard you want to. You want to run away when you realize you've made an angry outburst. You want to hide your confusion with all your books and your . . . your-a-"

"Erudition." He suggested gently.

"Exactly. But you can't always hide from those feelings Cyrus . . . And you can't always control them . . . And you definitely can't summon legendary pokémon in order to force them to create a new world void of emotion that you'll be king of." She stated matter-of-factly.

"What a ridiculous idea . . . Perish the thought!" He joked but she made no attempt at a chuckle, only a small smile.

"And I bet that even though you once said, and I quote, 'Compassion is an illusion that fools cling to only to find it fades with death.' Or something like that."

"Yes, something like that." He murmured as he stared intensely into her unwavering gaze.

"I bet that even though you yourself said that, you wouldn't mind keeping that feeling, hnn? Catching it maybe?" At this he arched an eyebrow.

"I _definitely_ wouldn't mind that . . ."

"Well you can't exactly catch a feeling like that . . . at least not in the way you would, knowing you . . . And knowing you in general and your preoccupation with the less-than-pleasing emotions . . . I'd say that you already know how to catch feelings the right way . . . Albeit the wrong feelings." She trailed off. He was less confused than before, but still lost. What had she meant by "catching" those feelings exactly? His thoughts were answered as he was ripped from them by a soft moan. He looked down at the girl who he had cradled on the bed below.

"Cyrus . . ." She murmured sweetly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, burying her face to his neck. Her cheek burned his as she reached his ear. With her soft breath patting within his inner ear, he found it hard to concentrate on anything. When she spoke however, he could hear nothing else, concentrate on nothing but the girl whispering in his ear.

"Cyrus, feelings like this embrace, your smile, your voice and how whenever I'm in your arms I feel so safe . . . these are the feelings I want to cherish forever. They're the ones I hold onto. The ones that I want to last forever."

He relaxed himself further and felt her arms wrap yet tighter still around his broad back. He breathed softly into her hair.

"You've succeeded then." She whispered.

"At what?" He breathed softly. The candle finally flickered out.

"Your scheme - _you've caught me." _


	2. Childish Impulse

***//Childish Impulse\\***

"Wow, you're on a roll." Dawn mused motioning towards the stacks of paperwork he was currently hunched over. She had wandered into the room eyes still unfocused and covered with sleep.

"Indeed." He stated not looking away.

She bent down to take a look at his handiwork.

"To chancellor . . . What's this?"

"Important business -hnn . . ." He grumbled.

"What is it?"

"You're distracting me." He kept working and didn't look up once.

"Oh, well sooooorry . . ." She thought over this for a moment or so. "I'll leave then" She began to away but a hand grabbed her wrist gently.

"Take a seat. I'll be done momentarily." She sighed and went to take a seat in the swivel chair adjacent to his desk

He hadn't looked up from his paperwork yet. She sat down in the chair and it spun ever so slightly. She suddenly felt the need to act upon a very childish impulse. She then proceeded to spin around in the chair.

As she spun the view of the dark office began to melt together and the edges of things became blurred. his pale blue hair melted into his face, melted into the dark desk, the new day blaring outside the window until it became a nauseatingly swaying rainbow of dizziness. Suddenly it came to her that perhaps she was now annoying him even more so. She brought her feet down quickly and the rainbow lurched to a halt. She wobbled a bit, fighting the urge to vomit. Slowly dancing blue eyes cracked open.

He was still hunched over the papers writing away furiously, a serious face over his features. She sighed and managed to sit still long enough to feel the dizziness recede. the nauseating feeling died down a bit and she was overwhelmed with twinges of guilt over her childish impulse. So she sat there. and the man slavered on still. Not giving her a sign as to whether or not he actually acknowledged her presence let alone whether or not he was annoyed. She sighed and stalked over to him slowly.

His face had slowly become less intense - he was almost done.

As soon as she saw her chance to, she climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. With little more than a sudden grumpily tired sigh he gave in, and despite having a girl clinging around his neck, Cyrus kept on working on his paperwork. However, he lifted one arm and brought it to wrap around her back and lie on her hip. He rested his chin on top of her head.

"Sorry for being a distraction, but I woke up and well, frankly I just didn't like being alone."

"I can relate." He leaned and with him she leaned as well. As he did she let out a little squeak and giggled as she found herself dangling from his neck. She heard the last scritches of a pen and then a long exasperated sigh that led to a nuzzling of her hair.

"There, now that is finished . . . down to real business." He practically growled and turned to face her. He leaned down and laid his lips upon her neck. She giggled as he nuzzled farther into her hair and moaned as his tongue found its way down her neck. It became dizzying, the want he drove into her and as soon as his lips left her neck she felt unbalanced and light-headed.

"Wh -what was that." She breathed, her cheeks flushed. His lips lifted to hers and melted into her warmth. As soon as he let go the dizzyness came back and all she could d to keep from falling over out of his lap was to lean her forehead against his and the loose grip he held on her hip.

He smirked.

"A childish impulse."


	3. Honestly

***//Honestly\\***

The girl has deep navy blue hair and glass sharp blue eyes. The man is taller than her by at least two feet. He is not a skinny man, but he is not fat either. The man is thick and his face is serious and almost unattractive in terse contemplation. He holds the flighty girl in derision. He sifts his hand through his cyan hair.

They fight. Over what to cook.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Honestly it's not too difficult a question -" A finger lifted to his lips.

"I say we have the Parmesan!"

"Honestly."

"Hmph."

"All right then, let's make it, you silly girl."

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In the still calm of a dark room they sit. The wide window frosted over shows dimly a darkened world of swirling snow and purple sky. He reads a thick volume, quickly and with great concentration. Absentmindedly his hand swims through her hair. She lays half on his lap. Reading a romance. The term used for the book is loose. The term when used for them is almost uncomfortably tight. _They_ have a romance. She snorts over the delusions of the heroine. Honestly the heroine has no life; always the girl finds herself reading of the heroine following her paramour into dangers untold. Blindly and stupidly because she doesn't know what she wants.

They fight, softly. Over stupidity.

The girl is stupid. He is . . . Silly.

"Who exactly would do something so stupid?"

"Well-"

"Honestly!"

"Honestly?"

"Yes!"

"Well indeed -"

"I'm serious!"

"You would. Honestly"

* * *

In his tone, quite concisely, he berates her stupidity. Why will she follow him even when she finds that in doing so she admits stupidity? She admits her wrongness? Her Naivety? She is not an unscrupulous girl. She tells him this. What she is doing _is_ right. He'll have to see it her way in the end. Even though quite literally he _is_ the only one of the two wearing pants.

"Weeeeell."

"Well what girl?"

"You said that you wanted to leave for the morning soo . . ."

"So you thought to come along, girl?"

"Yes, we'll leave now. See, I've got all my crap together, now come on!"

"You have to wait, if you don't recall I am a felon on the run from the law."

"Honestly now, has that _ ever_ stopped me before?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes you silly man."

"Not even once, you stupid girl."

She grins widely. She is stupid because she knows what she wants and she'll have it. They won't take him away from her. He can't even take himself away from her. _Nobody can_.

It's the argument he can't win. He won't. It simply isn't done.

Contemplating his dark eyes, she holds the man before her in derision.

"_Honestly._"


End file.
